


The Big Three-O (and what comes after)

by Cibee (Cibeeeee)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Family, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, dad friends!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibee
Summary: Harry visits the Malfoys on Draco's birthday
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 18
Kudos: 223





	The Big Three-O (and what comes after)

“Harry!” Scorpius screamed when the door opened, running to hug his leg before seeing Albus huddling closely behind, then screamed “Albus!” as he changed his course to collide with Harry’s son instead.

A huge smile split Albus’ face when his friend barreled into him, knocking him onto his bottom. He was always afraid that Scorpius would forget about him if they didn’t see each other every day, and more than once Harry had to calm him down from a crying fit before playdates because Albus couldn’t stand the thought of arriving at Malfoy’s doorstep and have his best friend not remember him. 

Although it was an awful thing to think, Harry thought it was partially James’ fault that Albus was so insecure, but mostly it was Harry and Ginny’s fault for not knowing what the hell they were doing with their first baby. By the time Lily came, they had felt confident enough to divorce while raising the kids together, but it still ached to see Albus like this. That was why Harry tried his best to make time for playdates with Scorpius, the boy was nothing but good influence on Albus.

“I think Scorpius will undo a lot of damage that James caused,” Ginny had once said, because that was what her humor was like.

And although Harry would never say it out loud, he agreed wholeheartedly, and wasn’t  _ that  _ a surprise.

“Hey, Scorpius,” Harry said, still thinking the name was fucking ridiculous but now in a good way. “Where’s your dad?”

“He’s upstairs,” the boy answered in a whisper. Albus leaned in to listen like they were about to trade secrets. 

“Is he now?” Harry raised his eyebrow. “And you’re just down here by yourself?”

“Tinos was playing with me,” Scorpius said, and the house-elf materialize right next to them with a loud crack, startling the boys into fits of laughter. Normally Albus would have cried from the sudden noise, but never while he was with his friend. Looking at them laughing, Harry couldn’t help but bend down and wrap them both in a hug as Tinos took their coats.

“Why is he upstairs all alone then?” Albus asked.

“Father isn’t happy today,” Scorpius replied.

That startled Harry, “why?” he asked. “Isn’t today his birthday?”

Scorpius lunged forward to cover Harry’s mouth but he was too slow. Silence rang through the house before a voice, dark with ominous rage, “Did someone,” said the voice, “say  _ birthday _ ?” 

“Father is angry!” Scorpius said in delight, and these were the times Harry got rudely reminded that despite the angelic face, Scorpius was still Malfoy’s son. Scorpius was practically vibrating from the amount of schadenfreude he was emitting. 

Footsteps thundered down the stairs and the boys ran into the drawing-room hand in hand. Harry sighed, resigned to his fate. 

Malfoy’s red face appeared around the corner, “Oh, it’s you!” he screeched, “Of course it’s you! Only you would come into a man’s home and insult him like so! The audacity!”

“Stating a fact doesn’t count as an insult, last time I checked,” Harry said. “Although, since your existence is an insult to the universe in and of itself, I suppose your birthday do count as that.”

“Oh, piss off,” Malfoy said. “Do you want coffee?”

“God, yes,” Harry said. He’d been taking care of three kids alone for the past week and it felt like his muscles might never recuperate from the abuse. “The coffee beans from Italy?”   


“That is quite literally the only ones I have,” Malfoy scoffed.

“So,” Harry dropped into the kitchen chair. “What’s wrong with today?”

“It’s not about the day, it’s about the age,” Malfoy said crossly to the Moka pot.

“What, thirty?” Harry said. 

Malfoy whirled around. “Shut your face hole!”

“It’s a number worth celebrating,” Harry said. 

“What an abominable thing to say,” Malfoy said. “You are a right piece of shi—you boys want some snacks?”

Scorpius and Albus clamored for sweets and Malfoy sent them off with a bowl of baby carrots somehow. 

“As I was saying,” Malfoy pointed his mug at Harry. “Shithead. You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s going to be me in a month,” Harry pointed out. 

“Still a month,” Malfoy sighed. “Oh, to be young and beautiful . . . ”

“You think I’m young and beautiful?” Harry said.

“I think I shall curse you to age ten years physically on your thirtieth birthday,” Malfoy said. “Or maybe I will do good for once in my life and poison this coffee now so you will only live as a twenty-nine-year-old and never have to taste the bitter fruit that is thirty.”

“Cheers,” Harry raised his mug and took a big gulp. He tilted his head back and let out a dramatic moan.

“There are children under this roof!” Malfoy bellowed. And the children, upon hearing their calling, came running in once more.

“Hello, one of the cute Potters,” Malfoy leaned down to greet Albus even though he’d been here for at least ten minutes already. “Take my mind off of my impending grey hair, will you? Pray tell, how old are you now?”

Albus stuck out both his hands in V sign and said, “Four!”

Malfoy, bless him, all but melt at the sight. He finally gave Albus and Scorpius the sweets they’d been asking for and more. 

Harry smiled into his coffee.

Malfoy sighed. “Four!” he said. “What a number.”

“Your son is four too,” Harry reminded.

“Yes, he is. A wonderful number.” Malfoy turned to the cabinet and busied himself with the content. Harry knew from the lines of Malfoy’s shoulders that his mood soured, and Harry could tell from the bow of his head that Malfoy thinking of Astoria again, and how she never got to see Scorpius turn four or Malfoy thirty. 

Harry took the box out of his pocket and unshrank it. “I got you present.”

Malfoy stilled. He turned, “Present?” In a hopeful voice.

“Well, presents.” Harry picked out the card first. “Albus, Lily, and Rose, and — all of the kids, really. There’re a lot of things in here.”

And it did look more like a book than a card, filled with flowers and drawings and handprints.

Malfoy took it with shining eyes. “If anyone of them calls me an old man in here I will hex their parents.” 

Harry laughed. “I’d like to see that,” he said, and pushed the box to Malfoy. “This is from me.”

If it was possible, Malfoy shined brighter. His hand shook for a second before they reached the box. Then he lifted the lid off with steady hands. 

“Oh,” Malfoy said.

“I mean, you can buy anything you want already,” Harry said, suddenly thinking this was a horrible idea and of course it would end up like this when Harry was left to his own device. “And — and I know you make plans, like, four months in advance to travel with Scorpius every holiday. So this year I thought I beat you to it and — and invite you to — ”

“You . . . ” Malfoy said. “You want us to spend the holiday with you?”

“Yes!” Harry blurted, and felt dizzy with the amount of blood in his head. “Well, now that I said it, it seems more like a present for me, and not — ” 

Malfoy plucked the small parchment out of the box like he plucked Harry’s heart years ago, and tucked it neatly in his breast pocket. He sat down across from Harry and slumped, so his legs were pressed against Harry’s. 

“I’m not cooking,” Malfoy said, picking up his mug. 

Harry grinned, flushed with coffee and smiles and thirty years’ worth of dreams that were coming true. “Wouldn’t want to die of food poisoning before your thirty-first birthday.”


End file.
